Many a hand has scaled the grand old face of the plateauSome belong to strangers and some to folks you know Holy ghosts and talk show hosts are planted in the sandTo beautify the foothills and shake the many hands

The nothing on the top but a bucket and a mop And an illustrated book about birds You see a lot up there but don't be scared Who needs action when you got words

When you've finished with the mop then you can stop And look at what you've done The plateau's clean, no dirt to be seen And the work it took was fun

Well the many hands began to scan around for the next plateau Some said it was in Greenland and some say Mexico Others decided it was nowhere except for where they stood Those were all just guesses, wouldn't help you if they could